


but your eyes will lead me straight back home

by CJune



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Inspired by Music, Light Angst, Love, M/M, Oneshot, Romance, The X Factor Era, friends by ed sheeran, x factor - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-09 07:46:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1974684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CJune/pseuds/CJune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's quite possible friends aren't generally that in love. But it's also quite possible they don't see it yet.</p><p>X Factor fic based very obviously on "Friends" by Ed Sheeran</p>
            </blockquote>





	but your eyes will lead me straight back home

**Author's Note:**

> This is very short, but hopefully sweet. It's also my first work, so feedback would be very welcome. Thanks for reading--and I suggest you listen to "Friends" by Ed Sheeran if you haven't already, it's quite lovely.
> 
> -C

[ _but your eyes will lead me straight back home_ ](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WYg0RymqJa8)

“Harry” A whisper pierces the otherwise quiet night, which had previously been occupied only by the sounds of 4 boys asleep.  A rumbling snore, a quiet snuffling, slow breathing, and now a repeated whisper.

“Hazza” Harry almost smiles to himself, because he’s been awake since he heard the creak of Louis rolling over in the bed above him, the creak that meant Louis was having trouble sleeping.  Harry was never a light sleeper before, in fact, he probably still isn’t, but all it takes is the ceasing of the long, light breaths that mean Louis is asleep for Harry’s eyes to open as he waits for the smaller boy to climb down from above him and wake him up.

“Harry,” the voice is beginning to get cross, and it’s very likely Louis knows Harry is awake, but he is waiting for—there we go.  Louis climbs on the bed next to Harry and lightly starts shaking him.  Harry didn’t wait because he likes the feeling of Louis pressed against his side, no not at all.  He likes messing with him.  That’s all.

Harry lets out an exaggerated yawn, and mumbles, rather unconvincingly “What? Louis?”

“You prick you were awake the whole time, I could tell!”  Louis’ voice is marked with a bit of amusement, like he thinks Harry is silly rather than annoying.  Harry wants to frown, and pretend to be offended that Louis would think Harry’s a liar, but his acting skills are shit and he just lets the grin he’s been struggling to hide cover his face. 

“Hiiiiiii” Louis rolls his eyes at Harry’s way of greeting, but smiles anyway.  Harry likes that Louis smiles at him like that.  Well, he smiles at everyone else too, but he likes to think that specific smile, the one where he pinches his lips together first, like he's trying not to, then lets it go, is reserved for him. 

“Aren’t you going to ask why I woke you?”

“Nope.”  Harry rolls over and attempts to engulf Louis in his arms, but Louis pushes him off.  Harry doesn’t understand why he doesn’t just lean back and accept his warmth.

“Not now, Harold.”  Harry doesn’t like the scolding tone in Louis’ voice.  It’s—it’s the you’re just a baby, Harry voice.  Harry won’t pout, he definitely won’t.  Goodness it is too early for this.

“I need to show you something.”

“I need to sleep.” Harry mumbles a reply, still stinging from the minor rejection.

“No, you need to come with me.” Bossy Louis, Harry thinks to himself, but he can feel his resolve weakening.  Especially when Louis leans over and breathes a whisper into Harry’s ear “C’mon, it’s important.” Harry sighs and rolls over, pushing himself off the bed and following Louis’ light footsteps out of the room. 

Louis leads them down the hallway, sneaking past closed doors.  Harry nearly trips over a crumple in the carpet along the way, he’s not quite used to the recent growth in his limbs and a flush creeps up his face when he notices Louis’ patronizing grin looking back at him.

“Need a hand there, mate?” Sure enough Louis offers a hand to Harry, but Harry refuses.  The slight laughter behind Louis’ eyes combined with Harry’s pride is a bit too much to let him let his guard down tonight.  Harry thinks he sees Louis’ grin slip for just a second, and he almost thinks “good”, before the crinkles by his eyes are back.  Nothing gets to Louis, and it frustrates Harry that he can just let any insults slide off his back with a bit of sarcasm, while Harry struggles with even the slightest criticism.  Louis says Harry just cares, and it’s a good thing, but Louis also treats Harry like—like a baby.  Harry wouldn’t mind the extra attention from Louis, actually he doesn’t mind it, except he knows it’s because Louis thinks of him as a younger brother.  There’s a small part of him, an aching at the bottom of his heart that he doesn’t like to think about too much, that knows the reason he doesn’t like being seen as the youngest or doted on is something more than a desire to be seen as an equal.  It’s the desire to be seen as desirable.  Harry shakes his head in an effort to shake away the thoughts nagging at the back of his mind.

“Louis, where are we—“

“Shush, trust me young one.  I know what I’m doing.”  Harry knows the superior tone of his voice is put on for theatrics, he knows but he’s just about had enough.

“No.”  Harry mumbles it at first, almost like he didn’t mean to say it, and has to stop himself from slapping his hand over his mouth.

“What?” The never-ending laughter in Louis’ eyes hasn’t dimmed yet, like he thinks Harry is taking the piss but then Harry speaks up again.

“No.”  Louis fully turns around then, exasperated and confused, and gets a look at Harry’s face.  It’s a mixture of annoyance and something else, masked behind a frown.  Harry keeps his eyes down, not wanting Louis to get a glance at what hides there.

“Are you really that mad that I woke you up from your sleep? I mean you don’t have to come, I just thought…” Louis trails off, for once sounding a little unsure.

“Could you tell me where we’re going? Just this once?”  Harry’s gaze is glued to the floor, and he may as well be talking to his bare feet, but there is waver in his voice that demands to be heard.

“Well, I wanted it to be a surprise,” Harry lets out a frustrated huff of breath and Louis hurries to finish, “but I have this erm, spot I go.  When I want to, like, think and, well.  I wanted to show it to you.” 

“Oh.  Well, alright.”  Harry knows he hasn’t actually said where or what the spot is, but he can’t force himself to speak up again.  He shakes out his hair and fixes it, and notices Louis scratching his neck uncomfortably.  If Harry could melt into the floor he would, alas his body lacks that capability.  The tension seems to crackle in the air, and he wonders when this happened.  This being the inescapable pull towards those blue eyes sketched with laugh lines, and the lips that twitch into an unwilling smile at Harry.  Perhaps the bathroom when they first met, or when they were put in a group together, or first time they shared a bed.  Maybe, Harry muses, it was realization that friends shouldn’t feel inescapable, inexplicable pulls towards other friends that created the nearly tangible tightness in the air.  That discovery happened only recently, with the older boy’s arms wrapped tightly around his middle as he whispered nonsense against his neck.  One of the few conclusions he’d come to in life that made it much much more complicated.  His thoughts exit his mind the second he feels the cold touch of Louis’ hand tentatively on his.

“You alright?” Harry flushes at the intensity of the worry directed towards him.

“Yeah, yeah, just…musing.” Louis’ mouth quirks up at the corner, Harry’s face breaks into a grin, worry forgotten.

“Let’s go Hazza.  I’ll give you a better place to have your musings.”  Louis then decides to wink and if Harry’s flushed face gets a shade darker, well, it could just be the lighting.  Or lack thereof. 

* * *

After sneaking through about three other contestants rooms for no other reason than to ‘take the back road’ as Louis put it, hiding giggles in their hands at the discovery that one of the girls snores louder than Liam and Niall combined, and struggling to get Harry’s thoroughly uncoordinated body out a window, they finally arrive on a balcony-like portion of the roof.  It’s barely sloped, making it easy enough to sit on, and has just enough room for the two boys to tangle their legs together in the cool night air, pressed against each other and a pillow they’d nicked from an unsuspecting person sleeping soundly in the last room they’d visited.  Despite being in London, the surroundings are surprisingly quiet and dark.  Moonlight filters through the trees and the sights and sounds of the city are disguised by hedges and a fence meant to keep eager fans at bay during the day.

“There you have it.  My secret place.  It could be yours too, if you’d like.” Louis glances over at Harry, but Harry’s too busy admiring the view.  Or, you know, hiding how embarrassingly pleased his face is.

“I would like that.”  Harry’s pretty sure he’d say that even if he didn’t like it, but in this case, the space is quite peaceful and he genuinely does like it.  He can almost forget the pressure in his chest, and the voice nagging at the back of his head calling him a child.  Almost, but not quite.  Louis lets out a sigh, and drops head onto Harry’s shoulder.   Harry’s instinct is to curl in closer to the boy, even though he shouldn’t.  Friends don’t do that.

“I think stars would be good secret keepers, don’t you?” Harry is used to these random thoughts from Louis, especially late at night, but they tend to be wild and outrageous, not absurd verging on serious.  It’s that reasoning that prompts Harry to finally look at Louis, who has his eyes closed. 

“Why, do ya want me to go get you one?”  Louis cracks open an eye at that, but Harry’s face remains stoic.

“Sure Harold.  Just grow a couple feet.” 

“Heyyy! You know, one day I’ll be the taller one, I’m not finished growing.”

“Who told you that? The doctor or your mum?”  Harry sticks a tongue out at Louis, refusing to let the joke spoil the warmth spreading through his chest.

“Why’d you need a secret keeper anyway?” Harry makes eye contact with Louis who just shakes his head lightly and smiles ruefully.

“Didn’t say that did I?”

“But you do.” Louis’ smile all but disappears at that.

“Should’ve known I couldn’t slide that past you.”  Louis reaches to tug at one of Harry’s curls but Harry pulls away.

“I can be your secret keeper.” Harry says seriously, and he does mean it.

“I don’t know if you can.”  Harry nearly winces at the sting from that comment, and frowns.

“Why?  I trust you, why don’t you trust me?  Aren’t we friends?  Best mates, I thought.”  Suddenly every painful insecurity about his age comes racing through his head, and Harry turns away.  He knows it’s childish, he does, really.  But maybe that’s all he is, a child.

“We’re not, well we’re not friends, we haven’t really ever been.  At least not in my mind.”  Harry looks down, and he can feel the pressure in his chest increase tenfold, but Louis continues, “That’s my secret, okay?”

“I, I don’t, like, why?  I don’t understand?” Harry looks up to the sky, as if he’ll find answers there.  There’s a stinging in the corner of his eyes and he’ll be damned if Louis gets to see him cry.

“Friends aren’t—well, friends just sleep in another bed, and friends don’t, at least I don’t think they treat me like you do.” Louis’ cheeks are pink, and he looks so nervous that Harry can’t remember why he was upset.  It takes him a minute to process the words and he realizes that he maybe, wait, does he even have a reason to be? His eyes widen, but Louis’ eyes are downcast, as he mutters “Never mind, I just—“

“Wait.  It’s just--I have a secret too.”  Harry sucks up all his courage and takes a second to lock eyes with Louis.  His eyes say what his words have implied, and that’s all it takes for Harry to lean in slowly, achingly slow, until Louis gets it and in the time it takes for their eyes to close, lips connect.  It’s so soft and nervous yet it says as much as Louis’ eyes do about stars, and secrets, and why they aren’t friends.  As they move apart, Harry finally understands the inescapable pull wasn’t one sided, but more of a magnet, pulling two halves of a whole, and he can’t help it when he smiles cheekily at Louis and says, “I’m guessing friends shouldn’t kiss me like you do.”


End file.
